Way Away
by ally0x
Summary: It's the summer after Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts and he is terribly depressed and lonely...So he decides to run away. Where will he go? What will he discover? And most importantly, how will he react? One shot. R


**A/N: I started this fic a while ago but never got around to finishing it...So I just recently did. I like the beginning but the ending didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. This was also supposed to be a song fic but I don't think they're allowed on here anymore (?). It was supposed to go to Way Away by Yellowcard. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! Criticism is allowed. :) **

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling. All words belong to me.

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As Harry sat on his bed, back at the Dursley's, he wished more than ever to just disappear. Disappear from everyone and everything in his life. He had been back at the Dursley's for one week. One week of torture. A week where he was forced to relive what had happened at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry's Godfather, Sirius, had died.

Sirius was the only fatherly figure that Harry had in his life since Lord Voldemort killed his father almost fifteen years ago. And even though he had only just started spending time with Sirius at the Order, he felt like they shared a special connection. Sirius had been his father's best friend along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew went off to the dark side, and Lupin was still here. But why did the other two have to die?

Along with that, Harry learned about the prophecy. A prophecy that foretold his destiny; the reason why Dumbledore had tried so hard to keep Harry alive all of these years. Not for his own good, but for everyone's. Harry was the only one that could kill the Dark Lord.

And what was to happen to him after the prophecy was fulfilled? Would he be crowned a hero and then forgotten? Would he be treated differently? Or maybe, people would be afraid of him, because they would know that Harry was now the most powerful wizard?

He didn't want to know what would happen.

He wanted a normal life. He didn't want to be a hero. He didn't want to be Harry Potter: the Boy Who Lived. He wanted to be Harry Potter: the Normal Boy With a Normal Life.

But there was no escaping. Not even with magic. Some people think magic can solve everything; Harry wasn't so sure now.

So he decided to take matters into his own hands, the _muggle_ way.

Harry James Potter was going to run away.

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He'd been thinking out his plans for the past three days. They weren't very good, though. Harry looked over at his clock, which read 1:02 AM. He was to leave in exactly twenty eight minutes.

Harry started packing his belongings. This was going to be tough because he couldn't take all of his things. Not without magic. And Harry didn't want to get expelled from Hogwarts; he was still going to go back – _maybe_.

He hadn't thought about where he was going to go, or what he was going to do. He had no idea who to go to or how he was going to get food. He just wanted out. He wasn't afraid anymore. Harry needed to get away for a while and think about what was to happen in his future.

But, as Harry came back into reality, he realized that he _did_ need to think of a place to go, and think of a way to get food. It was pretty obvious though about his means of transportation. His Firebolt. And nobody would really be able to see him if he had his invisibility cloak over him and his trunk.

Harry tossed a book into the bottom of his trunk, making a dim _thunk_. He then looked around his room, looking for other important solid objects that he needed to take with him. After glancing at his bed he remembered the "homework" he had been working on. He picked up his Transfiguration, Potions, and Herbology books and carefully placed them at the bottom of his trunk. The last thing he needed was to wake up Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. At least while he was still getting ready.

After packing his clothes (and robes too), an extra pair of trainers, and anything else that he would need, he sat on the edge of his bed with seven minutes to spare. He'd already figured out the food problem: on his way out he would swipe some apples, a loaf of bread, a few bottles of water, and two or three cans of soup to take with him.

But there still lingered another huge problem: _where was he to go_?

_C'mon Harry think!_ Harry thought to himself. _You're a Gryffindor; you can do this. _

Gryffindor. _Godric _Gryffindor. It hit Harry like a smack in the face. He knew where he would go!

Godric's Hollow.

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Harry was now trembling with excitement. He had fought a basilisk, fell off a broom from about fifty feet up, ridden a creature that was half horse half bird, been chased by a werewolf, retrieved an egg from a dragon, went through a maze filled with magical creatures and riddles, stayed underwater for an hour, left school and went into the Ministry of Magic and from there went into the Department of Mysteries, and in addition he had fought Lord Voldemort on countless occasions, but he had never in his whole life experienced this kind of feeling. Harry felt _bad_. It was like bringing his ten year-old-self back.

Harry was a muggle, packing a bag, grabbing food, and sneaking out of the house. He was running away, minus the fact that he had a flying broom with him.

But although he had less worries when he was 10 years old, he was glad to be a wizard just about now. Harry put his hand into his front pocket and gripped his wand. Even though he couldn't use it outside of Hogwarts, he still felt an advantage of having it.

It was now 1:28 AM. Harry got up and walked over to a large birdcage on his desk. Inside there was a white snowy looking owl named Hedwig. Harry had received her from Hagrid when he was eleven years old. He opened the cage and let the owl perch on his arm.

"Hedwig, I'm going to let you out, but you're going to need to fly to Ron's house. Take him this letter and then stay with him there," whispered Harry as he took a letter out of his back pocket and tied it to Hedwig's leg. It was a note telling Ron that he had 'gone away' for a while and that he was safe and would be back soon. Whatever 'soon' meant.

The owl lightly nipped Harry's finger in approval and flew off through the open window. Harry closed it after Hedwig left and then decided it was time to set off himself. He got his trunk set up straight and then grabbed his Firebolt from the corner of his room. Harry would have given anything to use a levitating spell just about now. He turned the doorknob and opened it with a slight creak. Looking back at his room one last time he realized he had forgotten something.

_Damn_.

As silently as he could he crept over to the side of his bed, where the lose floorboard was. Harry lifted it up and took out the contents: some old letters and cards. He quickly shoved them into his back pocket, not having time to open his trunk and put them in.

So once again Harry was off. He slowly dragged his trunk and firebolt across the hall, being extra careful to be quiet as he passed his Uncle and Aunt's room, and continued down the stairs. He was also careful as he dodged the last stair, which was the creaky one. It would have given him away instantly.

Harry walked into the living room and set down his trunk so that it was on its right side and on the floor. He undid the latches and opened the top. The first thing Harry did was put the cards and letters on top of his wrinkled clothes.

Next, he walked into the kitchen. It was extremely dark. Of course, it had been dark in the hallway and living room too, but Harry had long memorized that part of the house. What Harry didn't know was his way around the pantry. Food was never a given while he was at the Dursley's.

Reaching for his wand, he took it out and held it with a shaking hand. Harry carefully held onto his wand a little tighter and before him was a faint white light. Harry had learned to make the tip of his wand light up, and he knew that it didn't count as real magic - he had asked Professor McGonagal last year in Transfiguration.

Moving around, he opened the door to the pantry and scanned it up and down. He grabbed all of his needs and slowly set them down into his trunk.

After double-checking that he had everything, Harry finally unlocked the top lock to the front door, and then the lock that was on the doorknob. He turned the handle and pushed. It opened, bringing in a cold breeze from the night.

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He carefully brought out his trunk and broom and set them on the front porch. Then, with a twist of a knob and a simple pull, he closed the door to the house that had caused him so much pain. He was free!

Harry quickly arranged his trunk and broom stick, and then, finally, he swished his invisibility cloak over himself and kicked off. Cool air rushed against his face (the only part of him that wasnt covered by his cloak so he could see), and he gulped in a breath of fresh air. He flew over houses, then towns, and cities until he finally spotted what he was looking for.

Harry had no clue what time it was, he could have been flying for days for all he knew. Ever since he'd left his house Harry had been in a coma like trance. He checked his watch, which read 6:37 AM; that would explain why it was getting brighter. The sun was just about to rise.

Tired and exhausted, Harry landed his broom in a park nearby Godric's Hollow. He settled himself behind a bunch of bushes and laid down for a few hours sleep. But just as he was dozing off, he heard a loud rustle in one of the surrounding bushes. It sounded like something fell into it. Harry sat up, startled, and looked around. It was just light enough to make out what was infront of him now. Out of one of the bushes infront of him came a tiny little owl.

"Pig?" Harry asked. "_Ron_..." _  
_  
Of course, Pig had a letter attached to his leg and he stuck it out so Harry could retreive it. Harry sighed and opened the letter.

_Harry what are you thinking? You know you're not safe! When mum finds out she's going to be so worried! Please don't do that to her. Ginny is right here, too. She wants me to tell you that you don't have to run away to find happiness. You aready have it here, mate. You always have and you know that. Please come back. I guess I can't force you beause I don't even know where you are, but I can keep on begging you. We don't want you to get hurt and we're really worried about you...You can come here to the Burrow for the rest of the summer...C'mon Harry...Don't make me owl Hermione about this, you know how crazy that woman gets! If you haven't written back by tonight then I'm going to tell mum and dad (and Hermione!). I'll know if you've read this too because I told Pig not to come back unless you read this, so don't try anything. Be safe. _

-Ron

"I'm not writing back, so you can just leave," Harry stated as Ron's owl blinked it's tiny eyes accusingly at him. "Shoo!"****

Deciding that sleep was out of the question, Harry hid his trunk and broomstick behind a bush and threw his invisibility cloak over them, marking it's place with a rock. Right on the outskirts of the park was a big sign that read "Godric's Hollow". Harry groaned. This wasn't going to work. Godric's Hollow was a _village_. How was he supposed to find his parents old house when it was surrounded by a bunch of other houses? He didn't even know what it looked like. And what if people were living in the house?

To Harry's left, a morning jogger made her way toward him. Thinking quickly, he stopped her.

"Hi, uh, I was just wondering how long you've lived in this village?"

"'Bout nineteen years," the woman huffed. "Why d'you ask, lad?" The woman was middle aged, with blond hair that had little streaks of grey starting to grow in. She spoke with a heavy irish accent.

"I...Well, did anything - er - _strange _ever happen here? Probably like, fifteen years ago?"

The woman gave Harry a suspicious look and replied, "Yea, I recall somethin' did happen...You wouldn't happen to be lookin' for that house would yeh?"

"Actually...," Harry looked at his feet.

"Some people say it's haunted. Say they hear noises from it at night. Nobody's ever moved into it. Tried to sell it, but all the folks just said they got creeped out. I would stay clear of it if I were you, boy." She put her hands on her hips.

"Well, you see, it's my parents house," Harry mumbled.

"No! You've got to be jokin'! You poor soul."

"Um, thanks. But I'm really sort of in a hurry, could you tell me how to find the house?"

The woman sighed, "Okay, just go down this street until you come to the stop. Then go left, and it's the big house in the corner on the right. You'll see it when you go down the street."

"Got it," Harry nodded. "Thank you so much -"

"Silvia," she smiled.

"Silvia. I'm Harry."

"It was very nice meeting you; good luck, and do be safe!" She held out her hand.

Harry shook it and said good-bye. He walked back over to his belongings and waited for Silvia to turn the corner. That's all Harry needed, her to see him walking away with a trunk and broomstick.

He found the rock he'd used to mark his hiding place, and reached for his invisibility cloak. He figured if he walked quickly he could avoid being seen, as it was still very early in the morning on a Saturday. He headed down the street toward the house where he spent his first year as a baby, wishing more than anything that his mum and dad would be waiting at the door to greet him.

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Harry spotted the old, run down house as soon as he turned the corner, just as Silvia had said he would. It looked beautiful in the early morning glow. Even with it's long grass, rotten gate, and vine infested walls. It looked like an old mansion; only it wasn't quite that big.

He reached the gate and pushed it hard - it had rusted from not being used in so many years. He walked up the steps and reached out his hand to open the front door, but stopped himself with a dry sob. His hands started trembling and his heart was pounding wildly. Another dry sob, and his shaking hand fell to his side. _What am I going to find inside? Is it empty? Oh, Merlin... _Harry thought.

Taking a deep breath to recollect himself as best he could, he held the knob, turned it slowly, and pushed the door. Surprisingly, it opened. Harry peered inside. Most of their stuff was still there. Well, furniture wise. He walked in and closed the door. Dust was everywhere, and the house smelled old and dry. It broke Harry's heart to see a house he'd once lived in, gone to abandonment.

He quickly grabbed his trunk, Firebolt, and cloak and set them inside the door, wondering if his mother or father had ever dropped anything there when they came home from a long day.

Looking to his left, he spotted a couch and coffee table. There was a fire place, too. He lingered in the room a moment while longer and walked over to the stairs. He wondered if he would even be able to climb up them. They weren't broken or anything, but the wood could have rotted for all he knew. But Harry decided to chance it anyways. He carefully stepped on the first step, and then the second. They creaked and moaned under his weight, but Harry kept on going, leaving a trail of dust behind him.

Finally, he made it to the top. There were two short hallways. One to the left, and one to the right. Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember which way it was to his parents' room. He didn't think he could handle going into his yet.

Taking the chance, he turned and went down the right hallway. There was only one room down this hallway, and the door was open. Harry noticed he had stopped walking, his breathing was coming out in deep, quivering pants, and he could almost feel his heart coming out of his chest. He looked down at his motionless, numb legs and willed them to move. Right, left, right leg, left leg.

He stepped inside.

Harry looked to the left, then to the right. As if his mum and dad would pop out at any second. But they didn't. Nothing happened. Everything was silent and everything was motionless. Everything was dead.

He went to the right, over to his mum's dresser, and ran his hand over the top of it, leaving a clean, dustless trail. Harry looked up into his mother's mirror and saw a tear fall from his eye. He imagined his mother brushing her long hair infront of it. He imagined her emerald green eyes staring back at themselves. He ran his hand over her jewelry box, tears flowing silently from his sad, empty eyes. Rolling off of his cheeks and onto the dresser. He ran his finger to the handle of the box and pulled it open.

Harry was shocked to see a lone necklace at the bottom. He picked it up and rubbed it with his sleeve. It was a beautiful emerald with gold wiring around it on a gold chain; it made Harry realize just how real his parents had been. His mother was young and beautiful, and his father was successful and charming. And they were betrayed. Betrayed and killed. Why? Why was this happening to him, he thought. Or more so, why _did_ this happen to him? He slipped the necklace into his pocket. More tears.

"Why?" he whispered. "WHY!" Harry screamed to the mirror, to himself. He screamed it over and over and over. To the wall, to the bed, to the world. His world began to rumble, or so it seemed. Harry was so angry, so upset, that his inner magic had been awoken. The mirror cracked, a window shattered, and Harry was still shaking.

And as if something in him snapped, he walked quickly out of the room and over to the other hallway. Two doors. He whipped open the closest one. There was a bed and dresser, empty desk and a bookshelf. This was the guest bedroom.

Turning around with great speed he hurried a few more steps to the next door and flung it open. Infront of him was a crib. There was a changer next to it, a toy box across the room. A dresser. But the room wasn't in perfect condition. There were pieces of broken toys on the floor, and a cracked picture frame. Harry bent down and picked it up. Turning it over, he saw himself in the middle. His one year old self being held by his father, and his mother beside them holding Harry's small hand. They all seemed to be laughing. Even Harry, being the baby he was, had a huge grin and a soft glint to his green eyes. He placed it up right and set it on the dresser.

Then, looking over the rail into the crib, Harry saw that his blankets were still in there. Covered in dust.

He blinked. His eyes were empty. This was the room his parents died in. Saving him. Lord Voldemort, his mother and father, and himself had all been in this room at one time. And at that moment Harry realized just how much he hated Lord Voldemort. Of course he knew he hated him before. He knew that Voldemort had killed his parents and for that Harry hated him. But standing in this bedroom, Harry realized just _how much_. He would kill him, he would not be defeated. He would not let his parents' deaths go to waste.

The tears came once more, his shaking grew more violent, and his mind went blank. The next thing he knew Harry heard what sounded like a gun shot, and he was on the floor. Sitting there, sobbing and shaking. The window's had simply shattered into a million pieces and were gone clean off the frame. His vision was blurred and his head felt as if it were going to explode. And Harry screamed. No words, just noise. He howled and screamed and cried and was filled with hate toward Voldemort, yet love for his parents. He screamed until his voice was hoarse, his throat dry and sore. And he cried - until his body could produce no more tears. Still shaking though, he laid back on the dusty floor and stared at the ceiling.

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When Harry awoke it was dark outside. He sat up and took off his glasses, cleaning the dust off of them with his sleeve. He shoved his hand in his pocket and grabbed his wand. Gripping it tight, he produced the same light he had just the night before. The room looked eerie now in the dark, and Harry silently wished he was outside in the park, sleeping under the street lights on a bench.

Standing up, Harry rubbed his forehead which was aching dully. He made for the hallway, but stopped himself. He wanted that picture of him and his mother and father. He grabbed it and quickly made his way out of the room and down the stairs.

Harry pushed open the door and dragged his trunk and broom onto the front porch. He looked back into the dark house and whispered, "Good-bye mum...good-bye dad. I love you," and closed the door.

Harry opened his trunk and placed the picture frame on top of his wrinkled robes. As he was dragging the trunk and broomstick through the gate, he had the feeling that he wasn't alone. He looked up to see an older man who had been walking his dog, staring at him. Harry tried to just ignore him and closed the gate, but the man said, "Was it you? Were you the one screaming in there this afternoon?"

Harry faced his direction and said, "'Scuse me?"

"You heard me."

Harry turned and started to pull his trunk and broom down the street, hoping the old man would just give up. But he kept on.

"What have you got there, boy? What's in that big box? Why in the hell have you got a broom with you?"

Harry gritted his teeth, "Please, just let me be. I'm leaving."

"But I want to know what you was doing in that house," he pointed to it. "No one's been in there for years, 'n then you, just a young man, come and walk right in - don't think I didn't see you this morning, I was walking my dog then, too - with your box and broom. Then I hear you screaming away. Now yeh come out in the middle 'o the night looking like you've seen a ghost."

"It's my parents' house," Harry stated.

"Really, now?"

"Yes. Now please, leave me alone," he turned away one last time and began to walk down the street, back towards the park. He heard the man shouting more questions at him, and then start to yell at him to come back. He even thought at one point the man might chase after him, but he didn't. Eventually Harry made it to the 'Godric's Hollow' sign and found a bench to settle himself on.

_I'm surprised Dumbledore hasn't come for me yet. Surely it shouldn't be that hard for him to find me. And he needs to protect me after all._ Harry mocked to himself. _Where the hell am I going to go? It won't be long, I'm sure, until he finds me. Or someone I know, for that matter. But I don't want to see anyone just yet. God, what's happening to me?_

He sat there thinking like that for awhile. Thinking about what had happened since he'd ran away from the Dursley's not more than twenty four hours ago. Thinking about his parents and their house and how almost everything was still there. He thought about death, and he wondered if he would have to face his own soon.

And when Harry finally came out of his thoughts and back to the bench and the darkness, he decided he would just fly. And when someone found him, if he was ready, he'd go to the Burrow, or where ever else they wanted him to go. And when he next saw Professor Dumbledore, Harry would tell him that he was ready to fight Lord Voldemort. Of course, with training and help from him. But for now, he would just simply get on his Firebolt, throw over his father's invisibility cloak, and fly.

He reached in his pocket for his wand again, for reassurance, but instead of his wand, he grabbed his mother's emerald necklace. He pulled it out and let it hang from his hand.

One day when Harry was married, one day when he would have a daughter or a granddaughter, and when the time was right, he would give her his mother's necklace. And tell her to pass it on to the next girl in her generation. But for now, he'd hold onto it and always keep it close to him, always keep his mother close to him.

He put the necklace back into his pocket, and didn't search his other for his wand this time. He felt now, that he didn't need the reassurance anymore.

So out came his invisibility cloak, and he mounted his broom. Attached his trunk to the front, pulled the cloak over everything, and kicked off into the night.

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